


My Love Fur You

by Dame_Syrup (mary_pseud)



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Kink Meme, Other, Rassilon's Tomb, death zone, episode: the five doctors, fur coat, furversion, metacrisis chamber
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 15:19:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16349183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mary_pseud/pseuds/Dame_Syrup
Summary: For the kinkmeme prompt: Yeti/Two's coat: The real reason Two was being chased by the Yeti in The Five Doctors





	My Love Fur You

"Drat!" said the Doctor, and wished he could think of a stronger term. But trapped under Rassilon's Tomb, with a rather impressive-looking rock fall separating him from the Brigadier and a determined Yeti on his trail, his vocabulary was not at its best.

The urgency of his task kept thrumming in his ears like his own heartsbeats. He had to get into the Tomb, find out who had activated the Death Zone and brought him (and his previous selves) here...

The Yeti roared, and its great furred head and glowing eyes appeared at the far end of the tunnel. The Doctor turned on his heel and ran. Hopefully his dark fur coat would help him blend in, help him hide. He turned a corner, another, and was engulfed in hot rank-smelling fur. 

The Yeti bellowed in triumph, and pinned him against the side of the passage. He could feel cold stone and metal grillework against his back, the leathery fingers of the Yeti gripping his arms, the rhythmic thrust of its body against his-

Hang on, were Yeti supposed to do that?

Whether they were supposed to or not, this one certainly was. A wet patch felt like it was leaking through his black suit somewhere above belt-buckle height. The Yeti was rubbing harder and harder, and the Doctor has the uneasy sensation of stirring in his own trousers.

The Yeti bellowed, eyes glowing like little moons. Then it stopped, and cocked its giant head at him in a quizzical fashion.

"Ah, well. Glad to be of service – ma'am," the Doctor muttered. Ma'am seemed appropriate, as he hadn't felt anything poking into him. Though his knowledge of Yeti genitalia was not what it could be, he really didn't feel any urge to take the opportunity for some first-hand learning.

The Yeti moaned, and started patting at him with great hands. They moved over his coat in long strokes, and the Yeti moaned again. There was a note of grief in that cry.

How long had this beast been here, the Doctor wondered. Or had it been fresh-caught, as it were, brought here by the same forces that had assembled the Doctor(s) and his companions? There was something painfully desperate in the way it, or she, patted at his fur coat-

His fur coat. Purchased on Earth, not that long ago by his personal lifespan, from a smiling fur trader. Had a Yeti-pelt made its way from the Himalayas to China, and from there into the coat he now wore on his back? Did the Yeti recognise it? Of course not, he reassured himself. It must just be – it must just be the smell, or something. 

The Doctor started to try and wriggle out of the coat; if she wanted it so much, she could have it! This was considerably difficult, as the Yeti was close enough to keep him from opening the front all the way. He stretched both hands backwards, and felt metal under his fingertips. Metal? His eyes had adapted a bit more to the gloom, and now he could see that he and the Yeti were standing in some sort of openwork oval metal chamber, made of interwoven metal struts. The Doctor squinted; surely he knew what this shape was, had seen it in some book at the Academy...

He had. Oh yes he had. And at the realisation of where he was, the Doctor felt horror stealing over him, the horror of seeing your own dead self or being offered the poisoned apple from the Tree of Knowledge. 

He was standing in a metacrisis chamber.

He knew what it was: a perversion of Time Lord technology and power, used as a ghastly reward in the war games that the ancient Gallifreyans had played. Wounded fighters who made it this far could crawl inside and trigger the device, to emerge healed – and ready to fight to the death once more. Worse: the metacrisis chamber could be used to take the memories from a dying enemy, for a few priceless hours or days of omniscience – followed by a fiery death.

The chamber was old, of course, its power probably nearly discharged. But what if – what if –

The Doctor shrugged, and let the coat rise on his shoulders. Slowly slipping to his knees, he let the Yeti's body rub the coat off of him. This put his face much too close to the proof that this Yeti was, in fact, female, but he ignored that. Instead he crept backwards, on hands and knees, out of the framework. He stood, ready to run.

The Yeti crooned to the coat in her grasp, stroking it. Her great heavy head nodded, and if those glowing eyes could not weep, her voice could. The sounds of her grief filled the tunnels, echoing. And was that the faint cry of the Brigadier's voice in the distance? The Yeti silenced itself for an instant, as though to listen.

The Doctor had to take the chance. He had to keep the beast here, while he went to find the Brigadier. There was a power cell in one side of the chamber, very faintly glowing. The Doctor leaned close on it, blowing on it as thought blowing out a candle, feeling the energies of his own life flowing out through his lips, and the power cell came alive. 

The metacrisis chamber was suddenly filled with light: the blazing fire of regeneration. While the Yeti stood and hooted in surprise at the fur between its fingers twisting and rippling with new life, the Doctor looked away and scuttled towards the sound of the Brigadier's voice.

He paused after he was out of the Yeti's sight, clutching at his chest.

"Ten years of my life," he whispered. 

Then the Yeti made a new noise; a low growl that turned into song, a howl of joy that was enough to shatter the ears. The Doctor clapped his hands to his head, and said to himself, "It was worth it."

In the chamber, the Yeti howled and howled. The male that she had followed, that she had smelled, was here! Not in the too-little, too-cold form that she had rubbed against, but here and whole and oh, so wonderfully male!

The Yetis embraced, rubbing themselves against each other. Then the male growled, a growl that meant Hunger. His huge body turned as though to follow the smell of the Doctor.

No, the female replied. Dangerous-meat. Come, Outside. Outside, Sun, Stars, Outside. Safe-meat.

Outside, the male growled. And side by side, they went out to see and smell and taste and rut in their new world.


End file.
